


like minesweeper but there are no numbers and half the grid is mines

by catpoop



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Universe, Crack, Established Relationship, Horny Teenagers, Humor, Lance is so bi, Lance x his facial masks, M/M, Walking In On Someone, non-binary Pidge, rover is back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9477674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpoop/pseuds/catpoop
Summary: keith and shiro cannot catch a break, not wheneveryoneseems intent on walking in on them mid-bang





	

**Author's Note:**

> binged both seasons of voltron within 4 days so here i am now

The blanket lies pushed to one side, except for where Keith’s gripping it in his fists, but he doesn’t feel the cool of the castle air on his bare legs. In fact, he doesn’t feel much of anything, except for what Shiro’s doing with his tongue. He chances a look at the head nestled between his legs and jolts, possibly asphyxiating his boyfriend in the process. 

“Hahh –”

Somehow they’ve managed to both fit on the bed, Keith pressed up against the head of the bed and Shiro hunched over, pushing his legs out of the way (Keith nearly kicks himself in the face) and continuing to do that _mindblowing_ thing with his mouth. He’d offered to kneel on the ground so there’d be more room, but Keith isn’t about to do that to Shiro’s knees. He’s nicer than that. 

Not for the first time, he wonders if asking Allura for a queen-sized (or king-sized) bed is appropriate, but he can’t think of a good enough excuse. Or find the right opportunity to ask. In the middle of a battle? Probably not.

Did Zarkon have to squeeze his muscly bod into one of these beds? Or into the black paladin’s suit? Keith _would_ blurt the question out, if not for how much of a turn-off Zarkon is. He doubts Shiro wants to be reminded of his suit’s previous owner, especially when he spends all his time in it. Which leads him to another thought – what if something tiny-shaped, like an Arusian, were to be a paladin? Could they even heft the bayard aloft, let alone take that convoluted trip from the main deck down into the hangars? He supposes Pidge is also kind of tiny-shaped …

Keith is dragged back into the present when Shiro mumbles around his dick and he jerks, trembling at the sensation. A weird noise is torn from his throat but it’s too late at night for him to care about anyone overhearing. Which is why he doesn’t pull his dagger out from under his pillow in time when one of his doors slides open with a sleek whoosh. Not to mention both his hands are entangled in the blanket and his eyes are scrunched closed.

He opens them and snaps his head around to see Lance stumble in, eyes drooping in tiredness and night-shirt rumpled. He yawns and reaches a hand under the blue fabric to scratch his stomach. Both Keith and Shiro are frozen on the bed (Keith’s legs are sticking up in the air and he tries to set them back down), hoping Lance won’t notice them if they remain still. Surprisingly, it works.

“Mamá … Hunk makes really good,” he takes a stumbling step forwards, into the room, “cake. Where’s cake …”

Lance disappears back out the way from which he entered, in search for cake, but not before pacing around Keith’s room and pulling his red jacket off its hook and throwing it onto the ground. Keith blinks at Lance’s retreating back, letting out an exhale he can hear Shiro mirroring when the teen finally leaves them alone.

“What the fuck – was he sleepwalking?”

“Must’ve been.” Shiro replies calmly, far too calmly compared to how Keith’s organs are ricocheting about in his body. He forces his lungs back down from where they’d been snagged in his throat and flops back down on the bed as Shiro resumes the stellar blowjob. Would’ve been more stellar if Lance hadn’t interrupted in his stupid pyjamas and blue slippers.

“Stop worrying, Keith.” Shiro runs a soothing hand down his side. “We needed to tell everyone eventually. And Lance sleeps like a log – I’m sure he didn’t see anything.”

“He saw enough to chuck my jacket onto the ground,” Keith frowns, already thinking about where best to hide Lance’s fluffy slippers to get back at him. Maybe in the refuse disposal.

Shiro kisses his sternum and wraps a hand around him to coax him back into hardness. Begrudgingly, Keith relaxes into the mattress, feeling the familiar heat that had drained out of the room when Lance entered return to his groin.

\-----

Lance doesn’t say anything the next morning, except for laughing at Keith’s bedhead. It’s not his bedhead – he’d tidied it up and everything. Keith scowls at Lance and sits down for breakfast, flinching when Lance loudly asks Hunk:

“Can you make cake for me – us? Maybe chocolate … do they have chocolate in space?”

“Eat your breakfast, Lance.”

Keith scarfs his breakfast down not nearly as quickly as Lance does and excuses himself to the training arena, sort-of wanting to join in with the cake making, but also hyperaware of how much he needs to hone his reflexes if he wants to survive in any sort of fight. And to be able to ward off any intruders who try and interrupt his me-time. Not me-time in the sense of Lance’s me-time – doing all sorts of weird rituals to his face and carefully filing his nails – but more me-and-Shiro-time. Keith growls at the training droid as it drops out from the ceiling.

He gets a good few uninterrupted hours in before lunch, as they’re currently parked on the peaceful el’Trusor, Coran negotiating trades with the other ships who have congregated at the trading hub. Pidge leapt up at the opportunity to see strange and fantastical alien technology, Lance and Hunk are occupied with their cake creation, and Shiro is off in the bowels of the ship with his Lion, so Keith gets the arena to himself. 

He blocks the metal staff with his own glowing sword for the nth time, hearing the familiar clang of metal-on-metal. At least the force of the hit hadn’t flung the sword from his grip – Keith remembers embarrassingly scrambling to pick his bayard up and having to fend off the droid while sat on his ass. A flick of his blade doesn’t disarm the droid, as expected, and by now Keith realises that the weapon is probably welded to its metal hands – hardly a fair fight. And with that thought in mind, he takes a few hasty steps backwards, sucking air into his lungs and watching his opponent advance.

“End training sequence.”

He heavily sits down on the ground, gulping at his water canister and wiping the sweat from his brow. Keith lets himself rest for ten minutes, fatigue dragging his eyelids down and soothing him into a state of meditation. He jolts awake when Lance’s voice booms around the ship.

“Cake! Woohoo – cake, cake, cake! And it smells – how does it smell, Hunk – amazing! Come to the dining room pronto if you want to see me devour this whole thing in one bite!”

Keith _would_ ignore him, but the cacophony doesn’t let up, not until he personally runs into the room and slaps the loudspeaker out of Lance’s hands.

“Shut up. And save me a slice, I’m going to take a shower.”

He can’t help eyeing the surprisingly edible-looking brown mound on the table as he stalks out of the room.

\-----

When Keith returns, towelling his hair dry, everyone is back and seated around the table, delightedly swallowing down forkfuls. Lance beams at the sight, even though Keith assumes Hunk had been the one to do most of the work. He takes the empty seat next to Shiro, blinking at the plate that’s thrust into his hands and at the smear of brown on Lance’s grinning face.

“Enjoy~”

Something whirrs above his head and Keith flinches, looking upwards to find a floating robot eerily similar to Rover. 

“What’s –” 

Pidge pauses mid-bite. “Oh, that’s Rover 2.0. Nabbed him from a Galra shop.” 

At Keith’s arched brow, Pidge raises defensive hands – and fork – into the air. Lance has to swerve to avoid getting hit in the side of the head by a chunk of cake.

“He was just floating there … and no one likes the Galra anyway. No offense.”

“None taken.” Keith doesn’t really like the Galra either, what with their messing up his nice normal human life – _no-longer human life_ , he amends. But he has to wonder if some poor shopkeeper is now missing a security camera.

He finally takes a bite of the cake at Shiro’s urging and finds, to his surprise, that it doesn’t melt his tongue, or his stomach, or leave him curled up in a painful heap on the ground because it contains some anti-Galra poison. Keith has to remind himself to stop thinking like that. He takes another bite, savouring the strange sweetness that clearly isn’t chocolate, and the dense moistness that reminds him of birthday parties back at the orphanage.

Lance is starting on his second (since Keith got back, at least) slice when Hunk makes a casual comment that turns the cake in his throat to sludge.

“Oh yeah, has someone been using my cooking oil? Lance, is it you and your weird facials?”

Coran and Lance speak up simultaneously.

“ _Your_ cooking oil? I’m the head chef here –”  
“What? No, ew – I only use mayonnaise.”

Allura shuts Coran up with a wave of her hand and turns to look at Lance with a _seriously concerned_ look on her face. The others at the table do the same.

“H-Hey, haha! I was just joking!”He backpedals, eyes darting around before settling on Hunk. “Yeah, so no, not me drinking cooking oil. Who here has a thing for drinking cooking oil?”

Everyone joins in a chorus of denial and Keith does the same, even though he can feel Hunk squinting at him and Shiro, a far too shrewd look in his eyes.

Keith pulls Shiro aside the moment Lance haughtily interrupts their communal meal to go do another facial, and Pidge flies off to help Coran install the parts they’d bought, and Hunk picks up the used plates with a pout, eyeing Coran’s retreating figure.

“Head chef, my ass.”

Allura offers to help him and Hunk cheers up.

\-----

Keith tugs Shiro into the latter’s bedroom, because it’s the closest.

“Did you see how Hunk was looking at us?” He hisses, “Have you been using _cooking oil_ as lube?”

“What? No…” Shiro’s eyes reflexively dart to the in-wall cabinet beside his bed. “What do you mean Hunk? He wasn’t looking at either of us.”

“Hmph.” Keith yanks the cabinet open to find that familiar translucent bottle and unscrews the cap to see something white and slick and definitely not cooking oil. “What is this shit, anyway?”

“Altean healing lotion or something.”

“Okay, fine. You win this time.” And with that grand proclamation, he flops down onto Shiro’s bed and tugs the blanket around himself. Shiro puts the lube aside and sits down next to him.

“Win what? And what were you saying about Hunk?”

“Hmm.” Shiro’s blanket smells nice and Keith mumbles into it, “He was looking at us weird. Like he knows we’re gay and only gay people use oil as lube.”

“I’m … sure that’s not a thing. And I don’t remember him doing any weird looking of that sort.” 

He pauses, before continuing.

“Maybe we should just tell everyone; they wouldn’t appreciate us keeping this kind of secret.” Shiro runs fingers through Keith’s still-damp hair.

“No. Because then they’ll know.”

“But don’t they know already?”

Shiro ducks to avoid Keith’s angry arm and gets kicked in the back.

\-----

They leave el’Trusor in a few days, because of a distress call sent out to apparently everyone within earshot. Something about the Galra colonising the HD159868 system. It’ll take them a few days to get there, Allura reports, and Keith feels his libido jolt in protest at having to fight yet again and get up at ungodly hours when he could be cuddling in bed with Shiro.

He bursts into the man’s bedroom mere moments after the ship’s lights dim to their night-time setting.

“Shiro! I am – very horny –”

Shiro tugs him onto the bed before he can make any more embarrassing revelations. He leans into a familiar kiss that melts him into a warm puddle of unkempt hair and teenage angst, nearly forgetting his surroundings until the mattress creaks beneath them.

“Ah, wait – should we barricade the doors in case Lance comes back?”

“We’re in _my_ room this time –”

Shiro doesn’t protest as Keith gets up to put a chair in front of the only door in the room (why Keith needs two, he doesn’t know) before returning to the bed.

“That’ll stop Lance in his tracks, then?” Shiro chuckles, running hands under Keith’s shirt and pulling it up and off his boyfriend.

“Yes.”

“That’s good, then.”

Keith mumbles in agreement, licking into Shiro’s mouth.

They don’t get much further than three fingers deep in Keith’s ass before the doors whoosh open – and – nothing. Until Keith looks down and sees all four of Allura’s mice standing at attention, beady eyes looking at them.

“No, go a-away!” He turns to glare at Shiro and the man continues his fingering efforts, tightening his grip on Keith’s dick with a smirk.

Keith chokes down a moan when Rover 2.0 flits into the room, green eye blinking at the two of them. The blanket doesn’t really do much to hide what they’re doing.

“Not you too, fuck off!”

Keith throws the blanket at Rover 2.0 and it scatters, along with the mice, disappearing back out the door and leaving the blanket to fall to the ground in a sad heap.

“That’s it – fuck off and never come back!”

Shiro bundles Keith into his arms when he gets too agitated, squeezing his face between his palms.

“Shh, calm down.”

“We should just tell them, is that what you’re gonna say? Well why don’t I go tell them right now, since they’re all so fucking eager to find out?”

“Hey, hey, Keith. Let’s be reasonable here, okay?”

“I don’t want to be reasonable,” Keith pouts, sagging against Shiro as the man strokes his back. “Can you do the telling? They don’t like me anyway.”

“That’s not true, they’re a lot more accommodating of you being Galra now.”

Keith ignores him, intent on continuing his rant. “And anyway, even if that _were_ true, there’s still the matter of me corrupting their golden boy and _turning you gay._ ”

“I didn’t just turn gay, Keith, and you of all people should understand that. And I was the Garrison’s golden boy, not here.” Shiro can’t help but smirk at his final statement and Keith elbows him, brow still furrowed.

“Whatever,” he concludes. “I wanna go to sleep now.”

“At least pick up the blanket first,” Shiro replies, already stooping to retrieve the offending piece of fabric and drape it over Keith. He gives his hands a good wash before getting into bed with his boyfriend.

\-----

Keith wakes up looking grumpier than usual and Shiro is sure everyone notices.

“What’s up buddy?” Lance clasps a hand to Keith’s shoulder. “Someone shit in your food goo?”

That question alone is enough to throw Keith off balance and he stares at Lance. “No?!”

“Oh, that’s good. Because, y’know, if you eat too many leafy vegetables then your shit comes out green, and the food goo is also –”

Keith tunes out his chatter.

He’s halfway through his bowl of food goo when Shiro coughs pointedly next to him, wiggling his eyebrows when he looks up. Keith takes that to be _a sign_. He sets his spoon down.

“O-Okay, guys? I just wanted to say something.” Everyone turns to look at him. “Since you all already know anyway, not you, Coran, but everyone else –” His nervous tone switches alarmingly fast into one of accusation as he jabs his index finger at all the faux-innocent looks of confusion around the table.

“S-Since you’re all so hell-bent on trying to figure us out and all, I’ll just flat-out tell you. Shiro and I. Are dating. Okay, happy? Now stop trying to sneak into our rooms.”

Lance nearly smashes his unbreakable bowl of food good in agitation and Allura confiscates it from him.

“You what?!”

“Dating.” Keith reminds him.

“Wait wait wait, why does the _emo_ get more action than I do? And with … _him_?” He trails off into a squeak and stares at Shiro in a way that makes Keith want to slap the dumb look off his face.

Lance looks around for answers and finds none, except for everyone’s judgemental stares.

Surprisingly, it’s Allura who breaks the silence. “That’s nice, Keith. And Shiro. But I hope this doesn’t impact on your work ethic. And what were you saying about everyone already knowing?”

Keith doesn’t stop to rejoice over what he assumes is being accepted. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know about your mice sneaking in. And Rover-two-point-o. And Lance sleepwalking in in his ugly-ass pyjamas.”

“I did what? Eww, someone get me some bleach so I can scrub my eyes clean.” Lance runs off, possibly to go and check whether his pyjamas are really all that ugly. The others barely acknowledge his exit, instead looking at Keith and shrugging.

“Dunno.”  
“I didn’t know.”

He feels his anger simmering down, confusion rising up to replace it, and fights down another outburst as he spoons the rest of his food goo down his gullet. He ignores Shiro’s smug I-told-you-so expression when they meet up later that day in the castle’s gym.

“Didn’t I say they’ll be fine with it?”

_Hmph._

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about homemade facial masks and this site http://www.rd.com/health/beauty/homemade-facial-masks-recipes/ lists mayonnaise as one the options and i _b l a n c h e d_
> 
> HD159868 is a star in the scorpius constellation and because I am a scorpio …


End file.
